Another Nightmare
by MyGoldenBeauty
Summary: 'When he opened the door to the bathroom he didn't expect to see her crying. Eye's red and damp turned wide and angry with her mouth screaming the words, "Get out!"' She doesn't cry often, but when she does, even Natasha Romanoff needs comforting. A Clintasha one-shot.


He didn't even know she was home. She had told him she was out on a mission for at least a week. It had only been two days. So when he opened the door to the bathroom he didn't expect to see her crying. Her head snapped up so quickly he barely had time to register the movement. Eye's red and damp turned wide and angry with her mouth screaming the words, "Get out!" and he shut the door just as something made out of glass flew in his direction.

It was weird. To see Natasha crying. Not just a few tears like when you watched a sad movie or perhaps cry over the loss of an elderly family friend you barely knew. But _real, proper _tears that meant something was a little worse than what most would call 'bad'. The last person he saw cry like that was his five-year-old Godson when he had fallen from a small tree and sprained his ankle. Even Clint, and the many things he knew about Natasha Romanoff, couldn't decipher the root cause to this with only two words and an easily breakable object just missing his head.

Now that she was caught, the cries became louder than they were before, a few words of profanity or short phrases in Russian he didn't understand slipping between sobs. Clint hadn't even heard anything when he opened the door. Maybe she had assumed someone had broken in.

Even the few rare occasions of witnessing Natasha crying didn't compare to this. There had been the few occurrences where she'd let a few tears loose during late nights. Memories from her childhood or traumatic experiences in the field would visit her when she felt most vulnerable, and caused a few tears to shed. But this was the first time Clint had seen Natasha cry this hard. His mind searched and wandered for any little thing that might have triggered these tears. After approximately one minute he gave up on thinking, knowing that he wouldn't come to a conclusion without talking to Natasha first.

Knocking gently on the door he called above the sobs, "Tasha?" the crying continued, "Nat?" he called a little louder. Silence lingered for a few seconds before he heard a raw voice choke out, "Go away!"

Clint exhaled deeply, his hand hovering above the handle before he thought better of it. He eventually decided it best to give her some time to pull herself together before he tried talking to her.

As much as it pained him, Clint had to force himself away from the door and to another part of the apartment. Each sob was like a sharp stab in the heart, and he found himself wondering how long it would take before the tears finally got to him too.

Two hours later, Natasha emerged from the bathroom to find Clint sitting on the couch lazily flicking through channels. He had heard her walk into the living room, but he knew better than to approach her in the condition she was in.

She took a seat as far as she could on the other side of the couch from Clint, and watched the channels change. Two minutes later the silence was broken, "Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked casually, eyes still fixed on the screen.

He had barely finished his sentence before Natasha replied curtly, "No."

Clint didn't reply after that, he merely let out his breath slowly through a narrow space he made with his mouth. He eventually left some bland T.V show on, about a family of four trying to find their dream house in Australia. Neither of them were paying any attention to anything that was happening. They were both lost in their own thoughts. He felt both curious and concerned for her. It almost physically _hurt_ him to know that someone he cared too much for was breaking up inside.

After a few more minutes in complete silence, Natasha finally got up and said flatly, "I'm going to bed."

Clint looked at the digital clock on the table beside him. _7:31pm? _It was a little early. Even for Natasha, who valued her sleep.

"Wait, Tasha…" he stood up and followed her to where she had already made it to the door of their room. He stood next to her and rested his hand on her forearms, which quickly slid to her wrists, and then her hands. She didn't look at him directly, "Tell me what happened."

"Nothing happened."

"Come on, Nat, don't lie."

She sighed loudly, clearly frustrated, "Can't you just let this one go, Clint?" she asked bitterly.

"I would, but you know what I heard. You really think I'm willing to let that go?"

Natasha still refused to look at him, "I don't care whether you're willing to or not. I don't want to talk about it, okay? Goodnight!" and with that, the door slammed shut behind her, and the house was quite once again.

Clint was still up when the screaming and crying started again.

_'Nothing happened' my ass, _he thought, before jumping up from the couch.

There was no way he was going to let this go now.

Marching up to their bedroom door, he didn't even hesitate before swinging the door open to find Natasha tossing and turning in their bed. Clint turned the bedside light on to see that Natasha was still sleeping. She was having another nightmare.

Clint sat down on one side of the bed and held her shoulders firmly, "Nat!" he called, trying to stop her fidgeting, "Nat, you're just dreaming!"

Luckily for Clint, Natasha was a light sleeper and woke almost instantly. With the bedside light on he could see the sweat glistening off her face and chest. Some of her hair clung damply to her skin. Her eyes flung open, looking wild and confused for a moment or two, before reality came back to her and she relaxed at the sight of her partner. She was breathing heavily but it quickly subsided. Clint allowed her a few minutes to calm down. She slid herself up into a sitting position against the headboard of the bed.

When he knew Natasha wasn't going to speak first, he sought out her hand, entwining his fingers with hers before bringing it up to softly kiss her fingertips, and spoke quietly, "Natasha…"

She winced.

"I'm not going to make you tell me anything you're not comfortable with. But I really do think we should talk."

Something had pushed her over the edge in her sleep. Otherwise Natasha wouldn't have decided to come clear.

Nodding slowly, she tried to keep back any tears that dared to escape her eyes. She looked down at their hands, gently stroking the top of Clint's with her thumb, before explaining quietly, "Two days ago, when I was in Mexico, I was in combat with a few guys when…I got shot," she unconsciously raised her free hand to her lower abdomen, "It wasn't that much of a problem, really. They took me into surgery and I was fine after a few hours. But, Fury insisted I take the next plane back home, so I did. I arrived home yesterday. Then an hour later I got the news. They told me through the phone, you were out, I was by myself and I was scared. I was just probably overreacting with the sudden weight of it all, I just-"

"Tasha…?" She, too, noticed she was beginning to babble.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she finally got the words out, her eyes finally meeting his gaze, "Clint, they told me I'm infertile."

He didn't expect to feel the news hit him as hard as it did. After all, he found himself unable to think, unable to form words. He didn't know what to say or how to react. Whatever he thought he expected, it wasn't that. His body turned numb, along with his mind.

"The bullet when through my uterus. They tried their best but they couldn't do anything." Natasha had been trying to hold back her tears the entire time. When Clint didn't reply she blinked, and two tears fell, "Clint?" her voice came out raw and croaky. Excessive crying would do that to a person.

Clint swallowed and finally found his voice, "I-I didn't know you cared so much about something like this." He confessed.

"I didn't know either. In fact, I was almost certain that I'd never want to have kids. They're too much to handle. They turn your whole life upside down, they're too noisy, they don't listen and they're just a pain in the ass," Natasha managed a weak laugh, "But when they told me I could never have them…I just- I don't know. It's like I don't even have the choice anymore... And the more I thought about it, the more I wanted them. So we could be…normal."

When Clint finally managed to take control of his body once again, he climbed onto the bed and sat next to Natasha. She made herself comfortable by resting her head on his shoulder and entwining her legs with his. The two stared ahead of them, thinking to themselves for a while before Clint finally replied, "I get it."

"Hm?" Natasha looked up at Clint.

"I get that it only matters now. I thought about- about kids before but, I never really wanted any. But now…I don't even know anymore." He looked at Natasha, and for a moment, he thought she was about to start crying again. But she didn't.

"God, Clint, it's all my fault! If I was quicker, if I had just-"

"Don't. Don't do that to yourself, Nat." She looked at if she was about to say something else, to argue against the matter, but instead she rested her head back on Clint's shoulder and let out an exhausted sigh, "There are other ways you know. If we do decide to…to settle down one day, there _are _other options." He gently took Natasha's hand and kissed the top, trying his best to comfort her.

"But it won't be the _same_."

Clint's jaw clenched. He knew she was right. But it didn't mean it mattered, "They'll still be _our _kid. They'll be brought up the same way, treated the same way and loved the same way. Besides-" he turned to Natasha and placed a gentle hand on her cheek, "-we don't even know if we want this. Let's not let it get to us, okay? Whatever happens, we're in the same boat. We help each other, you got that?" As Clint gently caressed her cheek with his thumb, their foreheads slowly touched and he felt Natasha nod against him. He smiled weakly and planted a kiss on her forehead before asking Natasha if she had had another nightmare.

She nodded and told him, "Just the usual."

Clint held her close, so that her head was resting on his chest and his arm protectively wrapped around her, "Nat…" he sighed, and Natasha could feel the hum of his voice in her head. She merely shrugged, "I can handle the nightmares, Clint," she told him, "I only get them when you're not here."

He gently kissed the top of her head, and she could feel his smile when he replied, "Then I guess you'll never be sleeping alone again."

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**A/N: Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! :D**


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